IMAGES that stick in my mind's eye like band aids for wounds of old times and past tense.
Three. A tree, casually expanded from an accidental puddle, condensations off a cup's edge, corroding the table and warming itself.
It seems to waver in the light and in the winds untied, unbound, and somehow it all seems so worthless that something so pure and simple and impossible should exist without anybody recognizing how beautiful it was.
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